


i'll be out of my mind and you'll be out of ideas pretty soon

by taizi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble Collection, Everyone Loves Prompto Argentum, Families of Choice, Feel-good, M/M, Polyship Roadtrip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: “You guys are idiots,” Prompto says, but he’s hiding a smile behind his hand. Noctis can hear it plain as day. It sort of does something gravity-defying to his heart. “You kissed me like an hour ago, Noct.”“Yeah, but I worked for this one,” Noctis says, standing between Prom’s knees, resting dirty hands on those coeurl-print jeans, leaning in and in and in until their noses bump. “C’mon, Prom, I earned it.”
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 30
Kudos: 221





	1. a good day

**Author's Note:**

> title borrowed from [hot air balloon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRwBa4ahWqM) by owl city, which remains to be one of the most cheerful songs ive ever heard

“Hah!” Noctis crows, wheeling around to jab a victorious finger in his Shield’s face. “Eat _shit!”_

It was hard to tell whose feathers are more ruffled, Gladio or his storm-gray chocobo. He scowls darkly and says, “Two out of three.”

“No way.” Noctis dismounts immediately before that idea can stick, because he’s not sure he’d win twice. “I won fair and square. Quit being a sore loser.”

“Perhaps you could accept your victory more graciously,” Ignis says mildly. He must have finished the laundry early because he’s been watching from the sidelines for the last two laps, leaned against the fence Prompto is sitting on. He doesn’t look very impressed. “It was a very close race. You won by less than two seconds, according to the clock.”

“You’re just mad you didn’t get in on the wager.”

Ignis lifts an elegant eyebrow, and puts a very casual hand on Prompto’s waist. Clearly a pointed “I don’t _need_ to be in on the wager.” Which… fair enough. But he’s missing the _point_.

Determined not to let either of them ruin this moment for him, Noctis turns on his heel and marches across the packed dirt track to his best friend. 

“You guys are idiots,” Prompto says, but he’s hiding a smile behind his hand. Noctis can hear it plain as day. It sort of does something gravity-defying to his heart. “You kissed me like an hour ago, Noct.”

“Yeah, but I _worked_ forthis one,” Noctis says, standing between Prom’s knees, resting dirty hands on those coeurl-print jeans, leaning in and in and in until their noses bump. “C’mon, Prom, I _earned_ it.”

Prompto giggles, muffled, and Ignis murmurs, “If only his highness was as enthusiastic about earning gil we need for travel and supplies. Perhaps we should withhold kisses until our work is over every day.”

Well, that’s a terrifying thought. Or it _would_ be, if Noctis didn’t know for a fact that Ignis liked making out about as much as the rest of them did. Sure enough—

“Empty threat,” Gladio says, walking past with the birds’ reins in hand. “You wouldn’t last a godsdamned day, Iggy, and you know it.”

Noctis tugs at Prompto’s hand, drawing it away from his mouth and threading their fingers together. From this close, he can count every freckle. There’s a red-orange chocobo feather stuck in his hair. He’s wearing an expression that’s become familiar, that crooked, incredulous smile that says “how in the hell did I end up with you three?” 

He leans in the last inch and finally gives Noct his prize. His eyes are ridiculously blue. The sunlight is burning his eyelashes gold. Sometimes Noctis forgets to breathe when he looks at him. 

“Go win another one,” Prompto whispers, and it’s all the incentive Noctis needs. Hell, he could win _ten_ races now. Not even an Astral’s favor feels this good.

“Gladio!” he shouts. He nearly trips in his hurry. “Don’t put the birds away! Rematch!”

“Gods help us,” Ignis mutters behind him, and Prompto laughs so hard he coughs. It’s a _good_ day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a bunch of little ffxv drabbles without a home and this might be where i put all of them in the future


	2. peregrine

Prompto shows up to the Crow’s Nest looking hunted. Gladio is already sliding over to make room for him on his side of the booth, and Prompto crashes into the waiting seat without ceremony. He shoulders off a ratty backpack, letting it fall to the floor at his feet, which would imply that he literally _just_ got back.

“Hey, guys,” Prompto says without inflection.

“Oof,” Noct says. He leans forward across the table on his elbows, and gives Prompto’s hair a friendly ruffle. “Missed you too, loser.”

It’s an understatement. Noctis and Prompto have been comfortably attached at the hip since they were fifteen, and this past week was probably the longest they’d ever spent apart. Gladio’s had to listen to the crown prince whine for the last five days, and if it wasn’t his actual job to make sure Noctis didn’t get his ass kicked, Gladio would have kicked his ass. 

Prompto makes a face and waves Noct’s hand away, but already his demeanor is thawing. “Of course I missed you. We only Facetimed like every five seconds. Sorry, it was a long drive.”

Gladio scrutinizes him on the low, taking in what Ignis probably already has. He’s wrinkled and red-eyed and jittery, something tight in the lines of his body that speaks of frustration.

“I take it you didn’t enjoy your trip?” Ignis asks. He pushes Gladio’s basket of fries under Prompto’s nose, more or less a command to eat something. 

Prompto picks up a fry and worries it apart in his fingers.

“‘Course I didn’t. Driving all the way to Duscae in a gross car with a sleazy reporter to get your idiot brother out of jail isn’t exactly a _vacation._ I can’t believe I had to miss Iris’ birthday.”

“Hey, don’t let your head go there,” Gladio tells him firmly. “She told you it was fine, and she loved that stupid Moogle jacket you got her.”

“There’s, like, a whole _fleet_ of not-gross cars at the Citadel that you could have borrowed,” Noct says for the nth time. “You have the same clearance level as Ignis, and Ignis can do whatever he wants.”

“Uh, I think that’s just ‘cause he’s _Ignis.”_

“Either way, I would have been happy to arrange alternate transportation,” says Ignis calmly. “Threatening Mr. Ghiranze with what I would do to him if he made you uncomfortable in any way wasn’t nearly as reassuring.”

Prompto chokes on a bite of Noct’s salmon and Gladio thumps him on the back until he gets it down.

“You _what?”_ he finally manages.“Oh, no _wonder_ he was so weird! He wouldn’t even _look_ at me. Iggy, you’re the best.”

He’s breathless, and bright with the beginning of laughter, and Gladio thinks, _Nice one, Specs._

It felt weird to be three instead of four, even only for a week. He won’t come out and say it, but Gladio is relieved to have Blondie back where he belongs. 

He’ll be with Gladio heading up Basic Training for the next two months, and Gladio is more than looking forward to it. The new recruits are a bunch of pains in the ass, and they deserve to have Cor the Immortal’s ‘Quicksilver’ protege whip them into terrified appreciation for Gladio’s less manic approach. 

The bell above the door rings merrily, and a familiar someone shouts, “Hey, birdbrain!” 

The hard-won good cheer drains out of Prompto’s face like water from a leaky faucet. He doesn’t have time to turn around before Peregrine is upon him, pouncing like a hungry coeurl upon an injured anak.

“You left before I could say _thanks,”_ Peregrine says with vicious glee, grabbing Prompto in a probably-affectionate headlock. His barcode is stark and bold under the fluorescent lights of the diner, hidden in plain sight by a geometric half-sleeve tattoo. “Sick of your big bro, is that it?”

“For sure,” Prompto wheezes, trying to peel him off. “Definitely, one-hundred percent.” 

To this day, Gladio isn’t sure what to make of Peregrine. He showed up in Insomnia a few weeks after Prompto’s televised swearing-in ceremony, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a shock-rifle strapped to his shoulder. Given what they are, they’re physically identical, but Prompto’s friends have never had any trouble telling them apart. 

“Whatever.” Peregrine lets Prompto go with a toothy grin. He’s causing a whole scene in the quiet diner, but he’s been a Hunter all his life and very little seems to phase him. “You gonna be home tonight?”

“If I say no, are you going to go out and get arrested again?” Prompto asks his brother suspiciously. 

“I’ll probably have my hands full with Dino, since one of your boyfriends here traumatized mine. He needs a little TLC, if you know what I–” 

“Nope!” Prompto says loudly. “Bye, Pere!”

Peregrine laughs, and it manages to be more affectionate than antagonistic. This time, when he leans down to hug Prompto, it actually looks like a hug instead of a cheerful mugging. 

“Thanks for coming for me, birdie,” Peregrine says, cheek propped on Prompto’s messy hair. It’s one of those unexpected moments of sincerity that occasionally pops up between the two of them like a buoy. “I know it sucked.” 

“It _did_ suck,” Prompto mutters. But he’s leaning into his brother’s arms instead of away, and the harassed, stressed out lines of his body are relenting. “But I was actually glad you called me.”

Peregrine’s hands go tight in Prompto’s jacket for a second. Sometimes, he looks as though he’d like to grab onto Prompto and never let him go. 

The two of them spent so much of their lives alone– one in an empty house, and one in the wild countryside– and they both managed to find their own people, build their own homes. They don’t know how to be family, but they’re figuring it out. They _want_ to figure it out. They’re learning their way around each other. 

Peregrine ruins the mood by squeezing Prompto so tight he squeaks. 

“I’ll quote you on that next time,” he chirps, and leans over to swipe Gladio’s basket of fries, and takes off as abruptly as he arrived in the first place. “See you, Prom! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“No!” Prompto yells after him, leaning out of the booth. “No ‘next time’!”

“Text me, byeeeeeee!”

“Could you imagine being stuck in a car with him for six hours?” Noct says, with what looks like a new appreciation for Prompto’s plight.

Prompto whirls to face him, vindicated. “It was the _worst!”_

Ignis soothes him with promises of green curry soup for dinner– a handy excuse for what he already had planned, the chickatrice thigh and coconut milk waiting in Noctis’ apartment for Prompto’s return– and Gladio drops a heavy arm around Prompto’s shoulders to try to absorb some of his nervous energy. 

Prom’s phone chimes while Noctis is getting the check, flashing Peregrine’s silly contact I.D. Gladio isn’t nosy enough to read over Prompto’s shoulder, but he watches the expressions parade across his friend’s freckled face. Surprise, good humor, the automatic joy of an inside joke. 

As Prompto types out a reply, he’s grinning– the lighter, brighter half of a new dynamic duo– and Gladio thinks it’s a good look on him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone on tumblr requested a fic where versus13!prompto and canon prompto were twins and naturally i jumped right on board that train


End file.
